Debt Collector - Part 10 Username: DaraJaney, Jan/11/2006 19:32:58 [-04]
Another day his mother wheeled him down to the pond in the park. She handed him some stale bread to throw to the ducks. Another lady came along holding a little girl by the hand. “My goodness! Look at the big baby!” the mother said. The little girl looked at Frank blankly.
“How old is she?” the mother asked somewhat incredulously. “HE – is sixteen,” his mother announced proudly. “What !?!” The little girl looked up at her mother in confusion. “Oh my God! I can’t even get her to wear a skirt and look at him! Where did you get the dress … and the panties and bonnet?”
“It was his Aunt put him back in nappies,” his mother told her. “She had a selection of baby dresses made for him.” Frank continued throwing bread to the ducks, trying not to get too upset about this unwanted attention.
“And why did she put him back in nappies?” the woman asked, clearly intrigued. “It’s a long story,” his mother answered, unwilling to go into her husband’s embarrassing addiction. But she was not so inhibited in detailing every excruciatingly mortifying aspect of Frank’s predicament. “He can’t do without his nappies now anyway.”
“You mean he has lost control of his toilet?” she probed. His mother nodded. “That’s funny because Melanie here is just out of nappies. Aren’t you dear?” The little girl nodded proudly and looked pitifully at Frank.
“Is he wearing cloth nappies?” the lady continued. “They seem to be quite thick.”
“Yes,” his mother confirmed. “They’re fine really. The elasticated plastic panties keep everything in OK.” Frank had run out of bread. He had nothing to distract him now from the embarrassing conversation and he started to sniffle.
“Where did you get the pink tights?”
“I don’t know where his Aunt got them but she got a dozen pairs. So he doesn’t have to worry about running out of them for some time,” his mother teased.
The lady turned to the little girl. “Doesn’t he look pretty? Especially those frilly panties.” The girl grimaced and the women laughed. Frank suc-ked on his dummy. “I’ve managed to wean her off the S-O-O-T-H-E-R just recently,” the lady confided in his mother. “Oh I’m afraid Frank can’t do without his at all now. He gets quite cranky if he doesn’t have it.” There were tears running down his face now. How could she?
“We’d better be going,” his mother said. “He usually wets himself about now so I don’t want to be too far from home when he does.”
The woman laughed. “Is he that regular?”
“Well he gets his bottle every four hours so that usually keeps him going.” The woman was laughin****controllably now. Her daughter was still puzzled by the amazing sight.
“Do you come down here every day?” the lady asked. His mother confirmed this. “Will we come back tomorrow and see the big baby again?” she asked the little girl. She nodded.
“Bye, bye,” Frank’s mother said, “see you tomorrow. Frank! Wave to the little girl.” Frank obeyed half-heartedly, knowing he wouldn’t be wheeled away until he did. The lady smiled at his obedience. As he was wheeled away he was sure he heard the lady say “poor thing!” but it was followed by a snigger.
They were now a bit later than usual. Frank froze when he heard a familiar sound from his past life. It was the unmistakable sound of children rushing out from school. He realised that he was about to be surrounded by all the kids from his school.
A dozen or so children emerged from the school gate. Frank twisted around in the pushchair and gave his mother a pleading look. If she didn’t take evasive action quickly, he was about to have the most embarrassing moment of his life – and some of his recent experiences would take some topping.
“Oh look it’s your friends,” she exclaimed. Frank flopped back in his push-chair. She was obviously going to propel him into the middle of this. That familiar warm feeling spread around his nappy.
One of the kids pointed towards him. “Hey! That must be Frank, the big sissy baby we heard about!” They ran towards him. He was still filling his nappy with warm ***. He instinctively tried to push his petticoats down to hide his frilly panties and nappy but it was pointless. “Look at his frilly knickers,” someone shouted. “He really is wearing a nappy!”
He was now surrounded by kids. “Does he really do everything in his nappy?” one of them asked his mother. She smiled and nodded. For once it appeared that she wasn’t going to elaborate. But then she added, “he hasn’t used the bathroom for more than six months now.” Frank cringed. He suc-ked on his dummy. “Ha, ha! He’s suc-king on his dummy!”
“Does he even do his shi … eh … number 2s in his nappy?” They all laughed. “Of course he does,” his mother confirmed.
It seemed like they were there for hours as the kids quizzed his mother on all the details. “Yes, I do bottle and spoon feed him. Yes, he does sleep in a cot. No, he doesn’t have any boy’s clothes anymore, just his baby dresses.” Frank swung around in shock when she confirmed this. The kids laughed. Tears started streaming down his face. He realised that his mother regarded this situation as permanent – or at least very long term.
“Oh the big baba is crying,” they taunted him. He suc-ked shamelessly on his dummy. He just didn’t care anymore. He wanted to get home to the safety of his cot.
“I think he may be wet,” his mother suggested. “Is your nappy wet dear?” The kids were in hysterics now. He didn’t deny it. “I’d better get him changed,” his mother said and finally pushed on.
A group of girls he recognised as being in the year behind him followed. “If you ever want someone to baby sit him, let us know,” one of them offered and she laughed along with the others. “Actually, I was hoping to go out on Friday night,” his mother said. Frank squeezed his wet eyes shut in frustration.
The girls were excited at the prospect. “Really? Can we baby sit him then?”
“What? All of you?” his mother asked.
“Yes. Yes. Yes.”
“You might have to change a poopy nappy,” she warned them. They laughed and poked each other. One of them eventually recovered enough to say “we’re all experienced baby-sitters and used to changing nappies.”
His mother thought about this. “But do you know how to pin on a cotton nappy? He’s not wearing disposables.” The girls were in a heap laughing again. “No, we’ve never come across them before.”
“Never mind,” his mother said and Frank hoped for a reprieve. “I can show you all when you come over.” They jumped up and down with excitement.
“See you Friday, Frank!” They all went running and laughing down the street.